“This story flows more smoothly if it’s told from a third person perspective. More important, remember that you’re listening to something fictional. As such, the narrator doesn’t have to worry about possible liability and the listener doesn’t have any responsibilities. For the record, I’m just a storyteller at the moment, not a cop with any professional obligations, and you are just listening to a fantasized scenario, nothing that concerns you as a professional journalist.”
Whatever Chen was about to say, Lianping thought it would have direct bearing on her. She thought she should have guessed as much earlier.
There was a subtle change in his tone as he started to tell his story.
“C was a cop investigating the death of a shuangguied corrupt official named Z. It was a complicated case with different people from different agencies investigating different aspects, and needless to say, each of them had their own agenda. One of the aspects of the case concerned the subversive role in today’s society that the most devoted Internet users—the netizens—can play through those increasingly frequent human-flesh searches. The case in question could be said to have started with a picture posted online, which prompted just such a search, and which in turn exposed Z.
“As a cop, C didn’t think that the person who originally sent the picture to the Web forum did anything wrong. On the contrary, C had his reservations about the government’s control of the Internet. As for the other investigators, including Internal Security, they were focused on punishing the ‘Internet troublemaker’ in the name of maintaining social stability. But their target was clever and had sent the picture from a computer at an Internet café, thus making it impossible for them to track down the sender.”
Chen paused to pick up his cup again. She reached out, unexpectedly, and snatched the cup out of his hand.
“No, you’re drinking too much.”
“I’m fine, Lianping,” he said with a wan smile. “In the course of his investigation, C came to know a young journalist named L. He was drawn to her, not merely because she was attractive and intelligent but also because she was passionate about justice in socialism with Chinese characteristics. To his pleasant surprise, she helped him with the investigation, familiarizing him with the Internet users’ resistance to governmental control of the Internet. She introduced him to a computer expert who was able to break down some barriers for him. In the meantime, in some of the pictures she sent to him and his friends electronically, C came upon clues that had eluded Internal Security. While he was picking up some e-mail from her, C happened to discover a loophole in the new Internet café regulations. From there, he was astonished to learn that the identity of the original picture sender was none other than L.” Chen paused for a moment, then started up again. “Now, what was C going to do?
“As a cop and a rising cadre, he was supposed to report this to the higher authorities, but L didn’t post the picture out of any personal grudge. She was merely upset with the brazen, widespread corruption that was taking place while those responsible were pretending that their actions were in the Party’s interests. Her desire to cause Z trouble was, in fact, a spontaneous protest against the injustices of an authoritarian society. Her action led to a call to dig into the background of Z, which in turn resulted in a flood of responses. What happened to Z subsequently was beyond her imagining, and for which she wasn’t to blame, C concluded.
“So, if what she did was done on the spur of the moment, did he…” Chen trailed off.
In the silence that ensued, they heard footsteps moving closer to the door, and then trail off down the hall.
“So that’s it, the end of the story?”
“Yes, that’s the end. As I mentioned earlier, for C, that was an aspect of the investigation he has to wrap up, a missing piece to the puzzle. But there are things above and beyond playing one’s part in the system. Things far more important, like justice, however partial and paradoxical, in the present society. Of course, the persona in this narrative doesn’t have to be a real person. It’s just a story between you and me.”
Chen then produced an envelope containing the page he’d torn from the register at the Flying Horse Internet café and handed it to her. “Oh, this is for you. I almost forgot.”
“What is it?” she asked, as she opened the envelope. She looked briefly at the name “Lili” on the register page, and her face drained of color. Only a few knew that was her childhood name. Her ID card bore her new name, but the people in the Internet café in the neighborhood knew her well and never noticed or bothered about it. “I don’t know what to say, Chen.”